


The Gift

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Post-Sirius in Azkaban, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5924062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus finds the perfect Christmas gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Pondering

Remus Lupin was not a stupid man. He was smart, inventive, talented. He did not normally suffer from constipated imagination. And he knew his lover as well as he knew himself. He could sense every nuance of emotion in the other man by the smallest flicker of expression crossing his handsome face. He knew how to touch the other’s soul, whether by word or gesture or some combination of the two. And, for the life of him, he could not think of a suitable Christmas present. 

Sighing in frustration, Remus scanned the embarrassingly short list of potential gifts he had written down. He had tried to be systematic about this: What did Sirius need that he didn’t have? Now that they were living in the house Sirius had inherited from his parents, their domestic needs were well taken care of. They had furniture, linens, and a fully stocked kitchen, although he occasionally heard Sirius mutter about lacking items with suspicious names like zesters and reamers. They sounded like the sorts of tools for which Sirius would delight in finding inappropriate uses. No, it was best to stay away from kitchen utensils. Besides, this was their first Christmas together in sixteen years. Remus wanted to give his lover something he would treasure. 

What does one give the most attractive exonerated criminal under the sun?

Clothing? Remus toyed with the idea of impractical but enticing things like silk pajamas or a decadently rich, sensual bathrobe. Yes, they would stay on the list. Sirius had spruced up his wardrobe after winning back his name and his freedom, but he had concentrated on practical items. Items like silk underwear had not been a priority. Oddly enough, Sirius refused to discard his prison robes. He cleaned them and hung them in the back of the closet. There they lurked, reminding Remus of the shed remains of some molting animal, although he knew very well that the robes meant something entirely different to Sirius. Remus recalled walking into their bedroom one morning to find Sirius standing motionless in front of the closet, the worn prison robes gathered in his hands. His back was turned to Remus. Even so, the werewolf could feel waves of pain emanating from his mate. Softly crossing the room, Remus had slid an arm around Sirius and whispered, “They remind you of horrors. Get rid of them.”

Sirius had shaken his head, his face impassive. “They remind me of the price of my mistakes,” he said quietly as he turned and left the room.

Remus didn’t think this was entirely healthy, but he also didn’t completely fathom what prison had done to Sirius. Azkaban still leapt unexpectedly out of the darkness to clutch his lover in a tenacious, suffocating embrace. Sirius had fought every single day for twelve years in that hell to save his own sanity. And, even though he was physically free, he continued to battle the effects of that icy fortress and its demonic wardens. For reasons he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain, Sirius insisted on fighting those battles alone. 

Remus stood up and walked to the kitchen window, trying to shake these unpleasant thoughts. Christmas was rapidly approaching. His thoughts should be joyous. They had many things to celebrate, including Harry’s first Christmas with them. His letters from school were brimming over with excitement at the thought of the upcoming holidays, the first he would not spend at Hogwarts. The words Harry had written in his last letter had filled the two men’s hearts with warmth and love – “I can’t wait to come home for Christmas.” Home. And he and Sirius planned to make this the best Christmas of Harry’s life.

Of course, none of these thoughts helped Remus with his search for the perfect gift. Maybe he’d take a stroll through Diagon Alley and see if anything caught his eye.

Shopping

Cold and tired, Remus shuffled into a Muggle cafe for a warm drink and a chance to get off his aching feet. He had purchased only two presents after hours of searching through every possible shop in Diagon Alley and even a number of interesting Muggle stores he had found over the years. Yes, the presents were few in number, but they were good. The silk robe Remus found at Barrie’s, the rather pricey wizards’ clothing store, was exquisite. Wantonly rich silk, thick and soft to the touch. It would feel indescribably sensual against naked skin. The fabric was a deep silver jacquard, with black at the cuffs and along the shawl collar. Sirius would look like a birthday present in it and Remus would delight in unwrapping him.

The other present he had purchased was a gift certificate at Dragonwyr’s Outerwear. Sirius was passionately fond of the pair of black dragonhide boots he had purchased shortly after they had left Hogwarts. However, the boots were about twenty years old and no longer carried their years gracefully. Azkaban had not been kind to them, either. Maybe he could convince Sirius to buy a new pair and start breaking them in before his old pair disintegrated around his feet.

The petite, blond waitress placed his tea in front of him. Her name, Rita, reflected in the light hitting her name tag. “Hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look done in.”

He smiled up at her. “Christmas shopping, Rita. I can’t seem to find the right gift for …”

She grinned back. “For that certain someone?” He nodded.

“Well, if you’re looking for something unusual, there’s a jewelry store about two blocks down. They have all this estate stuff and antique things. Might be worth a peek, since you’re in the neighborhood.”

She bustled off. The thought of entering one more store made Remus’ head pound. No, he’d go home and put all this out of his mind for a few days. Maybe then inspiration would strike. With a wave of his hand at the cheery waitress, Remus left, preparing to go back to Diagon Alley and Apparate home. His steps slowed. The shop was just down the street. It wouldn’t hurt to look.

Remus walked almost four blocks before turning around. He hadn’t noticed any jewelry store. Maybe the waitress was having him on, although she seemed sincere. Maybe he had misinterpreted her directions. Retracing his steps, he almost passed by a battered door with the name “Bells and Motley” in fading script across its window. Peering in, he could see glass cases in a dim interior. Could this be the place?

Upon his entry, a wizened, old man appeared from the dark recesses at the back of the shop. “Welcome, sir. Looking for anything in particular? Rings? Brooches? Necklaces? Pins? Bracelets? Earrings? Pendants? Charms?” He rubbed his hands together, circling Remus like a vulture wheeling slowly in the sky, waiting for some grievously wounded animal to die. The old man pointed in various directions as his litany went on. 

Remus finally held up a hand to try and staunch the flow of words before he drowned in them. The man immediately fell silent. “I’m looking for..a man’s ring.” Inspiration finally arrived in full force, smacking him across the head, with the accompanying feeling that, of course, if he weren’t such a complete idiot, he’d have thought of this ages ago. He and Sirius had exchanged rings when they turned twenty. They did it as witness to their love for each other. They had thought carefully about what these rings should look like, and had taken their design to a jeweler. The bands had been rather wide, made of white gold to symbolize their connection to moonlight and starlight. Set in the metal had been their birthstones; a deep burgundy garnet and a twilight-blue sapphire. And inside each ring were unique inscriptions they had chosen for each other.

The Ministry confiscated Sirius’ ring at the time of his arrest. It had not been returned to him when the special tribunal had declared him innocent this past February. The ring either languished forgotten in some dusty, Ministry vault or someone had stolen it as a souvenir of a notorious criminal. Remus still owned his ring, but had locked it away in his Gringott’s vault when Sirius was sent to Azkaban. He hadn’t wanted to bring it out again, since it would only remind Sirius of the loss of his own ring. He thought of the inscription in his ring, the one that Sirius had chosen: 

‘I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.’

Certainly Azkaban, hell on earth, had barred the way for them. But, his Sirius had come back to him. Different, damaged, the invisible scars on his heart and soul etched like acid into a bright, tortured beauty. Hurt was a constant companion for them both, but each had the power to ease the other’s pain, and the grace to know when to use it.

He’d have a new ring made for Sirius. Quite pleased with himself, Remus was ready to dash out the store, run to Gringott’s, get his ring and take it to a jeweler’s to have it reproduced. He stopped himself, thinking he should at least be polite enough to look at the case of rings the old man had positioned himself near. As he approached, the man started a new verse. “What sort of man’s ring? Gold? Silver? Platinum? A plain band? A signet ring? Jeweled? Rubies? Diamonds?”

Remus held his hand up again, hoping to repeat his previous success. It worked like a charm and the man stopped his torrent of words. Remus quickly scanned the rows of rings, fully prepared to politely express his thanks and leave. But his eyes were caught by the light reflecting off a jewel like a candle burning behind a glass of red wine. Remus looked closer, and caught his breath. Enunciating very carefully, he pointed to what had caught his eye. “May I please see that ring there, in the middle of the third row?” 

With a flourish, the old man pulled the ring from its slot and laid it on Remus’ palm. It was a wide band of white gold set with a garnet and a sapphire. Hardly daring to breathe, Remus held it up to see if there was an inscription inside. The elegant cursive letters jumped out at him as if freshly carved into the metal. It couldn’t possibly be…

”T’were all one, that I should love a bright particular star, and think to wed it.” 

It was. It was Sirius’ ring. Remus felt unexpected tears prick in his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he asked in a tight, hoarse voice, “Where did this ring come from?”

The old gentlemen scratched his nose, his watery blue eyes looking vaguely around the store as he wandered behind his cash register. He pulled out a battered wooden box out and began fingering various pieces of paper in what looked like a hand-written filing system, all the while muttering to himself. “Is it under ‘Rings, Men’ or ‘Inscriptions’ or ‘White Gold’?”

Remus suppressed his impatience and stared again at the ring. What were the chances that someone else had reproduced this ring, right down to the inscription? He had loved how it looked on Sirius’ hand, the shape and size of the ring a perfect adornment to the long, elegant fingers. He had loved watching the jewels winking at him through a thin veil of ebony when Sirius’ hand would sweep his hair back off his face in that unconscious gesture that Remus had became familiar with from their first days at Hogwarts.

“Ah, yes, here it is. Man’s ring, white gold, sapphire and garnet. Star inscription. Says here that the ring was brought in this past March.” 

Remus fingers closed tightly around the ring. “I’ll take it, but I don’t have enough money with me right now. Will you hold it for me until tomorrow?”

“Most certainly, sir,” the proprietor smiled benevolently.

A thoroughly energized Remus flew to Gringott’s for his ring and to exchange Wizard currency into Muggle cash.

Christmas Morning

Harry woke up to the deep silence that muffles the world after a heavy snowfall. Looking out his window, he saw a shower of fat flakes roiling past his window. Grabbing his robe, he bounded downstairs. As he passed by the library, he noticed a pile of presents under the tree that had not been there the previous evening. 

Breakfast preparation was in full swing as Harry entered the kitchen. He barely had time to call out “Merry Christmas” to his guardians before Sirius swept him into a bear hug and then spun him across the room into Remus’ arms. It set the tone for the day. First, a big breakfast filled with boisterous teasing, followed by opening presents and later a trip to the Weasleys for Christmas dinner. Molly Weasley worried that a household consisting entirely of three males would never see proper meals prepared, to Sirius’ mild exasperation.

Once the three settled by the Christmas tree, Harry was almost embarrassed by the large pile of presents that had his name on them. He had never received so many things at the same time. There was a lot of clothing, both Muggle and wizard, for which Harry was grateful. He had not only grown taller over the past year, but had filled out a bit, too. He was no longer a scrawny kid, and he now tended to grow out of his clothes rather quickly. Harry fell in love with the leather jacket Sirius gave him, midnight black and soft as butter. Remus gave him a new set of dress robes, a deep forest green and fashionably cut, which Harry knew he would put to good use. 

Harry had given Sirius several cookbooks along with a basket filled with all sorts of oils, sauces, and spices. Sirius was thrilled, especially when, digging down to the bottom of the basket, he discovered a reamer and a zester. Grinning somewhat maniacally, he asked Harry, “Did Remus tell you I wanted these?” 

Eyeing Remus nervously, Harry replied, “He wrote that you kept mumbling about needing them. I took that as a hint. Wasn’t it?”

Remus gave a long-suffering sigh. “I suppose it was, although, Sirius, if either of those things attack me, you will regret it.”

“How can you possibly suspect me of plotting evil deeds with kitchen utensils?”

“Past experience.”

Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly, hoping to hear the tale. Sirius smiled invitingly at Remus, who frowned, his glance darting between his companions. “Forget it. It’s too perverse to discuss on Christmas morning.”

Sirius snickered, but kept silent.

Just when Harry thought that they had finished with their presents, Remus dug a small box out from under the tree. He gave it to Sirius with one hand, while the other disappeared into his pocket. 

“Saving the best for last, Moony?” Sirius smiled as he unwrapped the gift. “They say good things come in small…”

His voice died out and his face went blank as he stared at the object in the box. Harry craned his neck and saw the beautiful ring gleaming on its cushion of velvet. Remus drew his hand out of his pocket and Harry noticed an identical ring encircling Remus’ finger. 

Sirius was stunned nearly speechless. “Remus, you had another one made? To replace the one..?”

“No, Sirius. Believe it or not, I found it several weeks ago in London.”

“You found it? My ring?” Sirius’ right hand flew up, his fingers pressed against his lips. Harry saw his eyes glittering with unshed tears. After a moment, he held out his left hand to Remus, holding the box with the ring. “Would you? Please?”

Looking somewhat misty-eyed himself, Remus took the ring out of the box. Holding Sirius’ hand in his own, he smiled sweetly, and slid the ring onto Sirius’ finger. Sirius abruptly flung both arms around Remus and pulled him into a tight hug. Harry heard him mumble something indistinguishable into Remus’ shoulder. 

“You’re welcome, love,” Remus whispered hoarsely. He moved slightly, but Sirius’ grip on him only tightened. Sensing that his lover didn’t want to go completely to pieces in front of Harry, Remus covered for him by recounting the story of how he found the ring. By the time he finished, Sirius had regained his composure. Releasing his stranglehold on Remus, he sat back and asked how the ring found its way to the jewelry store.

“I don’t know. I asked where he got it from and he only told me that it came in this past March.”

Harry interjected. “That’s right after Sirius was exonerated.”

“Yes,” Sirius confirmed. “I had been wearing this ring on my left hand and my brother’s onyx ring on my right hand at the time of my arrest. When I was finally cleared, the Ministry gave me a box supposedly containing everything they took from me when they arrested me. Except the only things in the box were my clothes. Both rings were gone.”

Harry got an eager look in his eyes that Ron and Hermione would have recognized immediately. “Do you think we could go back there and see if the old man remembers who brought your ring in? Maybe whoever it was brought in both rings.”

Investigating

Several days later they Floo Powdered to the Leaky Cauldron. Once out on the street, Remus led the way to Bells & Motley. “Here it is,” Remus announced, stopping Sirius and Harry in their tracks as they were about to walk right past it. “I missed it the first time I passed it. It’s very easy to overlook.” 

The same old man appeared to greet them. He remembered Remus and was clearly pleased to see him again. Remus asked if the man could give them any more information about the ring. Once again, he shuffled through his paper files. As he searched, Sirius’ eyes darted rapidly over the rows of men’s rings. He abruptly turned from the display case and stood stiffly, staring out of the window. With a sinking feeling, Remus knew the onyx ring that had once belonged to Antares Black was not here.

“Odd-looking gentleman brought it.” The old man smiled at them, happy that his records contained additional information. “He was quite a bit older than you three and dressed rather queerly. He wore a pin-striped cloak and a green bowler hat. But, my records show it was St. Patrick’s Day when he came in. Maybe he was on his way to a party.”

A flurry of glances shot between Remus, Sirius and Harry, and as one, they said, “Fudge.”

A snarl worthy of Padfoot at his angriest rumbled from the back of Sirius’ throat. “Fudge had them. He knew it would be safe to sell them in a Muggle store because the rings weren’t magical. And, if they weren’t lying around a wizard jeweler, it was less likely that I would find them. That bastard! He probably stole them as soon as I was sent to Azkaban. I bet he thought he’d make some money selling them as souvenirs after I died in prison.”

Harry’s eyes had narrowed dangerously. “He had no right!” His body rigid with repressed anger, Harry advanced on the old man. “What about an onyx ring? Do you have any records on that?”

The old man’s expression began to show some apprehension as his gaze darted nervously between Harry and Sirius. Keeping a wary eye on them, he went through his onyx records. “I did sell a man’s ring, a square-cut onyx set in gold, in September.”

“I don’t suppose you have the name of the person who bought it, do you?” Sirius asked, somewhat wistfully.

“No, I’m sorry. It was paid for in cash. I don’t normally ask purchasers for names.”

“Well, thank you for your time.” Sirius turned and quietly left the shop, followed by the others.

Harry was still steamed. “There must be something we can do. Can’t the Ministry do something, like check for fingerprints or something on the ring? If we could prove Fudge handled it, then couldn’t we make a case for him as the thief?”

Remus glanced between his two companions. “There are ways to trace who has touched objects. But, it wouldn’t prove anything. Fudge would simply say that he handled the rings when Sirius was arrested. We couldn’t prove he had them in his possession since.”

Sirius chimed in. “And he was probably smart enough not to touch them with his bare hands when he brought them here. No, Harry, all we have are the incomplete notes and the memory of an elderly Muggle shop owner. The Ministry is not going to investigate this and then go through all the problems with casting a Memory Charm on the old gent.” 

He smiled warmly at Harry. “I appreciate that you want to fight this particular battle for me, Harry. But, it’s a lost cause. And it won’t find my brother’s ring. I’m afraid that’s gone forever. Hopefully, it’s landed with someone who will treasure it as much as I did.”

Harry was disturbed that his guardians were not putting up much of a fight about this. He’d concede that maybe they couldn’t nail Fudge, but there had to be a way to try to track the onyx ring. He stopped short, an idea taking hold. He grinned as the two adults turned to look at him curiously.

“A newspaper ad! I could place an ad in the local papers describing the ring, and saying the original owner was trying to track it down. I can offer a reward.”

“Harry, you – “

“And I can ask Mr. and Mrs. Granger if I could use their address. Or we could get a post office box. That way we wouldn’t run into problems going back and forth between Muggle and Wizard homes.” He got more enthusiastic the more he thought about it. “Then, if anyone responds, you can see which ones are the most likely and check them out!”

Remus replied, “Harry, you realize that whoever has the ring might live in Wales or Scotland and may never see your notice?”

“Or it may have been purchased by a tourist and it could be anywhere in the world by now,” Sirius added.

Harry snorted in frustration. “Yeah, maybe. And maybe it’s sitting on the finger of someone right here in London. I can at least try, can’t I? As an early birthday present for you, Sirius? Even if it doesn’t turn up? Can’t we give it a shot?”

Sirius regarded him quietly for a few moments, and then smiled. “Fire away, Harry.”


End file.
